How do you spell “relief”? Pee!

Some people seem to have a great memory of their childhood school years. I’m not one of those people. I can’t name every teacher I had and the corresponding grade I had them. I can’t tell you what grade I learned to write cursive, or when I decided Social Studies was for chumps.

But for most years of my schooling, there’s always something that sticks out in my mind; something that I will never forget. This story is about kindergarten. As good a place to start as any.

My kindergarten classroom seemed to have it’s own bathroom… or maybe one was just really close by (see… bad memory), but what I do know for sure was that there were signs on the door to say whether or not it was occupied.

And with a quick flip!!

These bathrooms weren’t your typical school bathrooms; they were like home bathrooms: one toilet, one sink. Main difference being the locks on the doors had been removed for safety reasons (they were dealing with kindergarteners after all); thus the signage.

Despite my upbringing, I’ve always been very mindful of providing people with bathroom privacy. You might be wondering what my upbringing consisted of in order to warrant that kind of comment. We were a one bathroom family. As such, if someone was in the shower and someone else needed to pee, you went on in, did your business and made necessary small talk so that it wasn’t awkward. Maybe that’s why I’ve always been mindful of giving people their bathroom privacy.

Because of that, I was way more likely to be standing in the hallway doing the pee dance in front an empty bathroom with a stop sign on the door than anyone else in my class. Others were way more likely to walk in on you because they had no respect for the sign. And then there was the girl that I’ll never forget for the rest of my life.

I have no idea what her name was, but I can remember her face like it was yesterday.

Every time I went to the bathroom, she’d walk in on me. I was always washing my hands when she did it, so it wasn’t a big deal. What was a big deal is how she dealt with the walking-ins. Most people would open the door, realize what they’ve done, apologize and back out (or freak out and slam the door shut). This girl would walk in, shut the door, drop her drawers and pull up a seat on the toilet, all the while grinning up at me while I stared at her in disbelief.

Every. Time.

The first time it happened, I thought maybe I forgot to switch the sign and that she really had to pee so when she saw that I was in there it didn’t matter, she had to go. But then I became really adamant about using the signs and still every time I started washing my hands, she’d waltz on in the door.

I started trying to pee really fast and take less time in the bathroom just so that she never “had to wait” outside while I was in there. And still, the second the tap was turned on, in she came.

I don’t know if I was the only one she did this to; I don’t know why she did it. But I’m fairly certain she’s the reason I ended up peeing my pants in class that year. But maybe that’s another story for another day.

Granny was a peeping Tom

Growing up, Granny had a friend that lived down the road; his name was Ray, but Granny always lovingly referred to him as Old Ray.

I think this nickname came about because I always suspected that Granny and Ray were boyfriend and girlfriend and when I would confront Granny on the subject, she would always scoff and say "Me & Old Ray?! Nooo...." Looking back, I'm fairly sure they were doing it. *shudder*

There are many things that I remember about Ray. If I was riding my bike, or walking down the sidewalk, or playing in the yard and Ray drove by, he'd do the same thing every time. He'd throw his arms up in the air and drive past without touching the steering wheel.

I always got a kick out of it, which is probably why he kept doing it. In fact, I thought he was magical. I didn't really know how cars worked.

Every time I saw him and asked how he was, he'd say that he was good, because it was his birthday. The first day, I happily wished him a happy birthday. The second day, I told him that his birthday was the day before. By the third day, I became skeptical. Even at such a young age, I was convinced he was trying to put one past me.

When I confronted him on the issue, he informed me that every day was his birthday. I didn't believe him, I told him that birthday's only happen once a year, so his birthday can't be every day. Then he would ask me when my birthday was.

I couldn't answer his question. I didn't really know how birthdays worked.

This conversation occurred again and again and again, until one day I finally asked Granny when my birthday was. The next time we had the conversation, I felt triumphant - I knew the answer. When I told him, he simply said "Too bad your birthday is only on May 10th... mine is every day".

He taught be about circular logic and how sometimes you can never win an argument.

But more than anything, the thing I remember about Ray the most, and the thing I think about every time I hear his name or think of him, is this story that Granny told me as a little girl.

One day, Old Ray was over visiting; at one point, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. Granny got up and walked past the bathroom and discovered that he left the door slightly ajar. Since Granny was a nosy busybody, she couldn't let an opportunity such as this pass.

She creeped up to the bathroom door and peeked inside. She would always laugh when she told this story because she saw things that she would never forget. Not that way, you sick fucks. In order to make an impression on a small child, first you must explain how things normally work and then tell them how this story is different than normal, and thus, how this story is funny.

She explained to me that when boys go piddle, they just shake the pee off their junk and go on their merry way. Not Ray. When he finished peeing, Granny was expecting the standard shake off and for him to turn around and wash his hands. Not Ray.

After he finished going pee, he tore off one square of toilet paper, gently folded it in half and then wiped any residual urine off his wiener. Granny said she'd never seen anything like it before, and I'm willing to bet she peeked in on anyone dumb enough to leave a door open in her presence.

That is what I think about when I think of Ray. And that's what I think about when I see one square of toilet paper lying around somewhere.

I have a no-hawk

So I went to a concert on Friday with a good friend of mine. And it seems that every concert we go to together has some amusing anecdote associated with it. This is no exception.

It started out well... we met up, went for dinner and a drink, then headed to the park for the show. Then we drank in public, stood in a very large line up and finally went in. Place was pretty full, but there was still a place for me to put a blanket down..  and have good seats! Sweet!

The opening band was already playing when we got in; I have no idea who they were but they were good. The main act went on stage and put on quite the show. All that aside, I didn't get much face-time in with the band, because I was too busy watching Benjamin.

I don't think that's actually his name, but that is what I'll call him for the rest of my life.

You see, it was an outdoor venue and Benjamin, the security guard, was behind this fence, close to the stage. He had a little walkie-talkie and every time he saw someone breaking the rules he got out his walkie-talkie and someone higher up (a manager, or perhaps someone a bit taller) came out and got the situation under control.

As far as I'm concerned, Benjamin has a couple strikes against him; namely:

1) He's a narc

2) He has a faux-hawk

3)... well, #3 is the point of this story, so I won't give it away...

You may be wondering why I was so busy watching a guy that tattle-tales; to be honest, it was the walkie-talkie. I always wanted one of those. Actually, I said 'to be honest', but then I lied. It had nothing to do with the radio. (Though I have always wanted one.)

I see two people (guy & girl) walk over to Benjamin to ask him a question. As they walk up, Benjamin looks straight at the girl's crotch and then into her eyes as she asked the question. That's not the worst part. The worst part is the look of disgust he had on his face when he looked at her crotch! Then, the guy talks to him and Benjamin did the exact same thing. Except the look of disgust changed to a look of intrigue. He liked what he saw...

I was pretty sure I was the only person who just witnessed this event, until my friend bursts out laughing and says "Did you see that??!?!". For the rest of the night we watched him. Everytime we caught Benjamin violating someone we would burst out laughing, and say things like "He just Benjamin'd that guy!", along with fist-bumping and high-fiving. Quite the spectacle.

Well, we decided that we had to be fair and give the guy the benefit of the doubt... maybe he's not a crotch-watcher, maybe his name isn't Benjamin. So to test our theory out, my friend (sitting on the blanket) stretches out, opens his legs and points his Benjamin at the security guard. After a few moment of Benjamin ignoring my friend's advances, I got distracted and looked away. A second later, my friend bursts out "Did you see that??!?!?". "No! Did he look?!". "Yes, but keep watching he will do it again...". "Will he now? Did he like it? huh?". "Just keep watching....".

Sure enough, Benjamin's eyes dart over and look directly at my friend's crotch. Burst out laughing. And again. Even more laughing. And again. Can't hardly breathe at this point... I swear he looked over at least a half dozen times. By the end I was laughing so hard but managed to get out:  "He Benjamin'd you! Ha ha ha" and go for a fist bump, but he leaves me hanging, I guess it's not as funny when it's your crotch that is being watched. My friend feeling violated enough for one day, put a backpack between his crotch and Benjamin's gaze.